on being stuck in a new mama rut

There are many things people don’t tell you about having a baby and entering the crazy, scary, wonderful world of motherhood. Or maybe they do tell you, but at that childfree stage you’re just like “meh, they’re talking about babies again” and so your eyes glaze over and you nod every now and then whilst thinking about something else. Like how much sex and sleep you’re having. One thing I was not prepared for was the rut I would find myself in, or am currently finding myself in. I am fully aware that this is probably not the case for every new mom, or perhaps, and more likely, it is. Maybe I’m just feeling a little down today (those post-holiday blues will get ya). But hey, I’ve never been one to shy away from honesty, have I? And today I feel like writing – it’s funny how I always come back to writing when I’m feeling blue – and this is the only thing on my mind, so here it goes. I’m stuck in a rut and I’m a little bored with motherhood and I feel like I’m just not relevant anymore.

Before I had the little magical fairy child more commonly know as Shimmy Immy Sprinkle-Poof Bainborough, I always just assumed that if I ever had a kid, I would be a stay at home mom. My job title would be: mother. I would be there every day to play with and cook for and feed my child (all whilst looking fabulous, of course). I would reluctantly send it to play school and, even then, only for the morning, and perhaps I would even home school. I was going. to. be. there. goddamit. I secretly thought that moms who were career-driven and who went off to work every day, leaving their precious little ones in the hands of strangers and nannies, had a few screws loose. When one of my mama friends told me before I was even pregnant that she actually loves Monday mornings because it means that she can leave her kid and get back to the office and wear a suit and speak to real adult humans about real adult things, I smiled knowingly, but inside I was horrified. Surely she would rather be at home playing with her cute little mini-me than be siting at a desk, in traffic and in meetings all day?

Oh, how little I knew.

Fast forward to me in 2018 scrolling through biz community and careers 24 whilst breastfeeding and actively bookmarking jobs that would require me getting into my car, sitting in traffic, and being away from my child all day long. Yes, much of this searching is financially driven (I miss having my own money so much), but a large part of me also just wants to escape. To put on clothing that won’t be covered in food within five minutes, and head to a building filled with adult humans who all know who the current president of the country is, and with whom I can converse in an adult voice without pulling faces and making fart noises.

And, believe me, I know how privileged I am to be able to stay at home with my child for this first year of her existence. And, if I really wanted to, I could hire a decent breast pump and get an office job tomorrow. I could escape the house and spend most of my salary on paying someone else to care for our Little Wena. I could help contribute financially towards the medical aid and the groceries and the insurance and totally alleviate this fog of new-mom-monetary-guilt I spend a lot of my days in.

But I gave myself a year. I promised myself and my baby a year to stay at home, to exclusively breastfeed and tend to her. And I’m in the homestretch. In a couple of days, my baby girl will be ten months old, and in a couple of months she will be a year old, and I can officially wean her off breastmilk and have my body back to myself. I will be able to leave her in the care of someone else for longer than three hours without worrying about my boobs exploding or her starving. I am both petrified and excited for this stage. Petrified because I’m afraid of leaving her on her own for longer than those three hours and perhaps having some semblance of my old life back and excited because I can leave her on her own and perhaps have some semblance of my old life back. I’m mostly petrified because most days I’m not sure who I even am anymore. Who, really, is going to want to hire me or work with me? How am I going to be able to slip back into normal adult life and conversation and know who the president of the country is? Am I even freaking legit anymore? Do people actually care what I think or say? What can I bring to the table these days besides a jiggly mum-tum and a sound knowledge of nursery rhymes?

I used to be sure of my talents. So sure of the direction I was going in. The ways in which I was going to change the world.

Now I forget to put my deodorant on in the morning and study the colour of baby poo all day long.

And, of course, yes, it’s all a season, as everyone keeps saying, and in years to come I will look knowingly back at this broke-ass, self doubting rut I’m in and I will think, “I wish I had just basked in every moment and soaked up every second of those chubby toes and open-mouth kisses”. But this morning, whilst Imogen sleeps, and I mindlessly scrolled through my social media and pondered posting something, I realised that I actually have nothing to post. Nothing to say. I haven’t taken a decent picture in days. Man, I remember when I used to have to hold back on posting pictures too often. When words flew from my fingers into beautiful captions and articles and blog posts. When I could spend hours curating shit. And I miss that. Maybe it makes me sound silly, but I miss that act of creation and the interaction and the engagement that followed.

Ah, the double-edged sword of being a mom. This knowing that I will one day miss this time of my life, that I never really and truly and fully immersed myself in this fleeting stage of early motherhood; but also that I can’t help feeling that I’m missing out on other important things – opportunities and events that may never come my way again.

Is there a lesson in this? I’ve been writing and meditating on these thoughts for a while now and I’m not sure I have reached a conclusion to this post, to this feeling, to this state of being. Perhaps that is the lesson. There is no lesson. No answer. I know I’m not alone; that these thought processes have been reflected in the minds of mothers all around the world for years and years now. A ritual and initiation we all have to pass through on our journey back to finding ourselves and creating our new identity as mother. For now, I will sit in the moment. Wait for my baby to wake. I use the time she gives me now to recollect myself and steal glimpses of who I am and who I still want to become – and when she is awake I give myself fully to her. Perhaps my biggest fear is that this is simply life right now. That one day I really will actually miss these days, like everyone says. That maybe, one day when I’m old and grey, my worries today of being relevant won’t matter in the slightest. But today, in this moment, my type-A personality – the one that wants to make waves and have a voice and be heard and change the world and make a difference – is feeling trapped and is yearning for adult conversation and having the time and resources to make big magic.

I pad into my bedroom to check on her sleeping. She is quiet, rosy-cheeked, rib cage rising and falling with every breath she takes, every atom in her body growing and learning and dreaming and creating. For now, this tiny human I made and brought into being, who thrills and exhausts and tests and delights me every day… ah, well… she is my big magic.

Comments

You are not alone, Ben is nearly 14 months old and I feel more in a personal rut than ever. I work, I have worked since 4 months and it kills me. Yes there are days in an exhausted fog that being baby free is a relief, but more than not I feel my heart break every day when I leave the house and it aches all day until I get home. I resent work when it wants more from me, stresses me out etc. because it impacts my moon for those few hours I have my little guy. Time is always tight, cooking and grocery shopping add more pressure to a day. There is no such thing as peaceful morning walks or having nails done or seeing a friend for coffee – all things perfectly normal pre-baby. I have days when I get completely worked up about the half assed job I’m doing at work, how little time I spend with my baby, how little time I spend on ‘me things’ and my husband And how crap I feel in my body. And there are other days I just think, be kind to yourself, all will ebb and flow with time. Hang in there mama, you will have days when you are feeling like you are winning at some things, so cherish those. Immy is so beautiful, you won’t regret giving those special parts of yourself to her, she already reflects them beautifully.

Great post! You are a talented writer.
As I stay home Mum ( my daughter is 5yrs old). I completely understand what you are saying and I especially remember struggling with this the first year of my daughters life.
I am also an artist but honestly am only really getting back into my craft properly now. I’m a typical scatter brained artist that does best with a solid routine and the ability to immerse myself into a long day of work that is singular in its focus. Having a little one at home who was in a constant flux of development and change made it extremely hard for me to get anything done, getting into any kind of productivity flow was a challenge (and still is).
Another aspect of it is the feeling of being a social leper for not contributing financially (not from my family but from society in general) . I really think today’s world doesn’t value the role of the stay home carer despite it being a shockingly demanding, tiring and difficult job. There were times in the early years of deep sleep deprivation that when I was asked what I did and replied ‘stay home Mum’ that honestly the response should have been a pat on the back and round of applause instead of the ‘you are so lucky and your husband is so understanding and wonderful for allowing you to do it’ std response! Haha!

I do feel very privileged to stay home with my daughter, I am seriously lucky that I get to work on my art in the mornings while she goes to school. I’ve worked very hard to get to this happy balance between building into myself and my career as well as being the happy home maker and safe zone for my daughter. I totally understand the need to get back into a career and the outside adult world, for some moms it is vital that they do that.
I’m an introvert that likes working from home and I still feel like this at times but ultimately I choose to continue what I do because I really want to, I love doing it and I believe that the whole of society benefits from us stay home parents. The benefits can’t be measured financially they are far more subtle, intangible and easily disregarded . As a stay home parent (for however long you decide to do it) you need to be strong in your ‘why’. You need to ignore what society thinks and what you tell yourself about relevance etc and accept that for the most part you will not have outside encouragement, respect or affirmation.

All moms struggle, working or stay home. It’s all hard, it all takes grit. You don’t ever really feel like you are doing things right. Figure out what makes you happy (ultimately that is what will be best for baby).

You might feel like you have lost too much of your former self, I did and still sometimes do feel like that but you do get yourself back I promise. You actually get an improved version of yourself that can handle a lot more hardship, and that has a few more layers of dimension.

Hang in there, you are doing an amazing job (? round of applause!).
Nicole

Well, whatever else you have lost, you definitely still have the ability to write. What a wonderful post. The emergence of feminine voices is really important right now, and something rather big. As we look for ways forward that aren’t patriarchal, or prestige-based, or financially-based, we need voices that have experienced a deeper slower way of living, and new mom’s are all over that. Mindful parenting is absolute torture to our egos, but our egos are pretty shit guides anyway, which lead us at best to a house-of-cards kind of happiness.

Keri, your writing talent is INSANE.
And I couldn’t be happier that you wrote and shared this post, for more reasons that one. Your creative and passion of writing is not lost, hopefully it felt good to share this and feel a bit of that spark again, and you have already inspired and helped so many other mamas who read this post.

I know this feeling all too well – and I didn’t breastfeed for as long and I left my first baby girl after 6 months with a nanny for a few hours at a time. And I never returned back to work either. This rut is a phase and oh so normal but that doesn’t make it any easier or give you your mojo back over night.

After three babies and now toddlers, I finally feel like I have found my “space”and meaning in the world – and I am right where I should and want to be x